Ending The Dream
by Anouka
Summary: Sadly, even in fairy tales, the dreams must eventually end... Golden Age, AU


**Ending the Dream**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. CS Lewis created Narnia and her people; I'm just playing with them. I promise to return everything safely once I'm done.

**Author's N: **I'm pretty sure this is a oneshot, but it has the feel of having the possiblity of being something more. Warning; major character death.

{I}{I}{I}

I could hear him. Four days since his departure, and yet I could hear him. His agonising cry as he fell, the way he screamed my name – half dying and yet still terrified for my safety. Great Aslan, was I losing my mind? My hands trembled at the smallest touch – be it friend, ally, or enemy. I would not sleep… could not sleep. A thousand pins penetrated my brain, and I could feel the world ticking past me; so fast that I could not grasp at it. Susan and Lucy visited me every day; this much I knew. And I was grateful, no matter how I reacted in their presence. But I was ashamed… so ashamed that I could not hold myself together for them. For they needed me now more than ever, and what was I? Useless: a carcass.

_Aslan, I wish that were true_.

The fire in my bedroom burned bright and hot, a bitter reminder of my own mortality, and I kept my eyes upon it as Susan and Lucy bickered amongst them as to how best bury him. If it had been left to me, he would have had the greatest of all burials; fit for the King he was. For after all, Aslan had crowned him highest above us all, and yet…. He had been the one to die first. How could petty talks about flowers and colour schemes possibly eradicate the pain from his departure? I knew, somewhere; that they must have been replacing the pain from his loss with the smaller details, but it angered me more than I could say. I kept my head bowed, hating the whole conversation. I knew what he would have wanted, and I could not give it to him. Narnia would not allow it, and neither would my sisters.

"Do not forget his sword," My voice speckled out around dry lips, and I could feel their eyes turn toward me. "If you must make a charade of his death, at least…" I swallowed; my throat was dryer than I had anticipated. Though admittedly, I had not expected to speak at all. Apparently, my mind had other ideas. "….at least make his death grand. He was our brother, after all. And he was King. The Highest and goodliest of all of us," My voice cracked, and I swallowed, closing my eyes briefly.

"Brother…" Lucy moved toward me, and I looked up at her, tears shimmering in my eyes. "Oh Brother, we all mourn for him. But a funeral must be arranged, it must happen" She gave a watery smile. "AS much as we would wish to hold onto him… would you keep him from Aslan's Grace by refusing him burial?" I shook my head, abet reluctantly. He had done great things whilst among us; who was I to deny him the safety of Aslan's True Home? But, by the Lion, I wished… I wished I could join him. I said nothing of this to Lucy, though, and merely gave her a tiny, weakened smile. She smiled brilliantly in return at me, and wrapped an arm around shoulders that were lightly shaking, holding me close.

{*}{*}{*}

I could not help but watch them with loathing. They wept, they mourned… but neither seemed to think of the future. I should have remembered that they are only children, and much younger than I, but even so. Knowing I am now the eldest made things all the harder; without a firm and caring hand to guide us. It was for me now to be the guiding hand, the knowledge and the faith. _Aslan help me, I cannot fill his shoes_. I knew Lucy thought me to be made of stone. I did not care. I had wept tears, be certain. Tears of hatred for the one who murdered him: tears of fear and tears of regret. The last words we spoke were too light-hearted, and oh, how I regretted them!

But life goes on. He was dead, but we were still living. Narnia was in chaos. The whole land wished to join us in mourning, but there were threats at every door. With him dead, we were alone now. Lion help us; our walls might already be breached if He had not been in the Castle, as He had been since our brother was brought home.

We should have moved faster. Gods help us, we should have thought quicker, acted sooner, done… _something_. I knew that wishing to change the past only brings about madness, but it was hard not to curse oneself for the slowness of the mind. If we had just been a little faster… perhaps he would have still been alive. I remembered finding them. I'm not sure I can ever erase it from my memory. Bodies surrounding them like a morbid protection detail; the two of them clutching at each other, one's eyes streaked with tears, the other still, so still. Gods help me, even when I saw them, I did not move fast enough. My brain… shut down. I froze for three whole minutes before he called my name, a plea; so broken sounding, and then I was flying, flying to their sides.

He was so cold. They both were, but he especially. I hated myself for not going with them, for staying at the Cair, for being so weak of stomach that I could not fight alongside them. Aslan save me, if I had… perhaps things would have been different. Why it could not have been one of us, I would never know. I would have thought, out of those of us who could be given to a cause, one of us might do. He was too important to lose; the head of our State, and the heart of our Kingdom – gone in a flash. Life is so very short, and I have only just realised. _Aslan, I wish I had told him how I loved him_.

"We must make a date for the funeral," My voice came out much stronger than I thought it might, for which I was most grateful. They barely reacted to start with, but after a few seconds, our brother's head lifted.

"Four weeks," he whispered, shakily wiping his eyes. I stared at him, wondering where he pulled that far-fetched idea from. "It is Narnian law," he explained quietly. "If… a member of the Royal family dies, then there are four weeks mourning, in which time the body is…" his voice cracked, and he took a breath before continuing, his eyes moving to watch the ground, rather than me. "Prepared, and then burned on a pyre." Lucy's sharp intake of breath matched my own, and I glared at him.

"That will not be happening. He will be buried." The sharp tongue of my sister had us both staring at her. Lucy was trembling violently, her little body clenched tightly as she glared at our brother, a spark of fire in her eyes.

"Luce…" he reached for her, but she stepped away, shaking her head.

"No." she snapped. "I don't care. I don't care for Narnian etiquette, or for burial preparation, or… "Her voice cracked, but she continued on. "I'll not have him condemned like a _witch." _Our brother's face went pale, and for a moment I feared he might vomit. He abruptly stood, and turned from us both, shaking violently. Lucy watched him, eyes wide, realising at some point she had spoken out of context, and we both waited until, eventually, he spoke, his voice strained, a thousand years old.

"Quietly then... Just us three; and Aslan: if He will come. Somewhere peaceful, I think." Our sister's body untensed, and she nodded, looking quietly relieved. "We will have to do something for the Narnians though," He continued on, and I bit my lip. Turning to us, he met my eyes, and then Lucy's. "They cannot be denied the chance to grieve, it would be unfair. Many of them loved him almost as much as we do. He was their King, after all."

"Perhaps the dryads would sing something for us," Lucy's voice was thoughtful. "As they did at our Coronation," I nodded, but our brother shook his head, looking thoughtful.

"He wouldn't have wanted a fuss," he said quietly. A fair point, truth be told. "I'll do it." We both stared at him, incredulous. To get our brother to sing was as rare as hearing a nightingale in London. He shrugged, a little self-consciously, but his gaze was defiant. "I think it should be just us and Aslan there, and more people means that others will want to join, and then we'll have the whole of Narnia there, before we know it. He wouldn't have wanted it that way, I don't think. So I'll write something, and sing it, if you two don't mind?"

"I think he would have liked that very much, Son of Adam." The quiet voice behind us made me jump, and I turned, freezing at the sight of Aslan. Though we had seen Him since the death of our brother, we had been deeply shocked and resisting of help. Now though, the shock was… not wearing off, as such, but becoming more real. And He was here, to help us. Lucy ran to Him, burying her face in His mane, sobbing softly. "Dear One," He greeted her gently, letting her cry against Him. Our remaining brother's face was white as he turned, and knelt towards the Lion, though he kept a little distance. From where I still stood, I could see his knees trembled a little.

"Great Lion." He whispered. "In Your mercy… please. Please, bring back what was taken. I promise never to ask for anything again, if You will grant us this one favour." There was a low grumble from the Lion, and our brother shivered where he knelt, but stayed firm, his eyes locked on the Lion's gaze.

"Dear Son, if I could, I would," Murmured the Lion. "But time cannot be reversed. What has been done cannot be undone. The past is set in stone, and you and your siblings must learn to honour it, not yearn for it." He looked upon our brother, His eyes shimmering a little, golden as ever. "Courage." His eyes turned toward me, and I swallowed, feeling myself tremble a little. "Dear Susan. You have a heavy burden to bear now. But you will not be alone. You must allow your siblings close, for as they once were, so they will be again."

"Aslan…" I sobbed out a breath, one hand against the nearby wall, wondering briefly if I might faint. "Please, Aslan… he was so young. He…." My voice cracked, and I shook, unable to continue.

"He is at peace now," Whispered the Lion, though His voice seemed to resonate, in the room. "One day, you will meet him again, beloved Children. But until then, you must be strong, you must continue as he would have wished."

"What must we do?" Our brother's voice was quiet, and I had never felt prouder of him as he seemed to grow before my eyes. The Lion turned his head toward him, seemingly not minding that Lucy was still very much buried in his fur.

"_We_ must prove to the rest of the world Our Might," A delicious thrill ran through me, and I saw Lucy and our brother shudder a little. "Do you have the strength, the courage, and the patience, Children?"

"Yes," We whispered; a unanimous voice. Lucy extracted herself from Aslan's mane, and went to stand next to me, her hand slipping into mine. Our brother rose on his feet, and met the Lion gaze for gaze. For a small, paralysing moment, I felt my breath catch. Aslan seemed to smile at us, and inclined His head in a Lion's Bow. He turned towards the open window of our dead brother's room, and, after a single breath, let out a single Roar that seemed to shake the foundations of the sweet Land that was Narnia.

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**Author's N**: I find it difficult to believe that the Pevensies only rein Narnia for a few years, as is suggested by CS Lewis. Despite it being a "Golden Age", he never states how long they ruled for. I'd like to think that they were on their thrones for at least two decades. To me, it's the only thing that accounts for their yearning and dismay in Prince Caspian (both book and movie). For the sake of discussion, the Pevensies will look as they do in the films, but act as they do in the books.


End file.
